Chapter 10

*****

In a greasy-spoon a couple of miles away, the waitress serves good coffee in cheap mugs. “Where did you find him?” I ask. “He makes my skin crawl.”

Bech purses his lips, nodding. “I agree. He’s an appalling little schmuck, but he wants the work. He understands the need to keep a low profile and…. he’ll enjoy it….”

“Is that so? So, where did you find him?”

“He was running a boys’ sports training club. There have been a number of parental complaints about him.” He gives me a meaningful look. “I was handling the complaint.”

“He’s… what? A paedophile? A psycho?”

Bech tips his head. “He’s been labelled a sociopath.”

“And the deal is what? He gets to enjoy playtime in exchange for keeping them under control?”

“Essentially, yes. Of course, he gets paid too….”

“Of course. Does he understand that I want saleable goods? If I find his fingerprints all over the kids….”

“He understands that if he steps out of line, there will be consequences that will start with the complaints about him re-emerging and…. I wasn’t specific about where they could end….”

“He doesn’t touch the kids. I want them clean when they’re moved on. They’ll bring three times the price that way.”

“I understand, sir. And I’ll make sure that Jenkins does too.”

*****

Bech goes, vanishing off to…. to wherever it is that Bech goes.

I’m not ready to sleep. Instead, I walk.

My shoes click on the cold flags, the sound echoing against black-faced windows. The year’s turning and sleet sends needles stinging across my eyes. I pull up my collar.

Lousy fucking climate…

Wear an undershirt next time….

A pair of hookers hang out on a street corner. “Hey, you looking for a good time?” The voice reflects across the street and one of the pair strolls over.

Everything about her is cheap, from her scuffed boots to her ripped hose and her fuck-me lipstick, several shades too bright for her colouring. She licks her lips, parting them in what I suppose she thinks is an enticing manner. It isn't. She's crude and obvious.

Wonder how many cocks she's sucked already today?

“Want to play?” She’s trying I think to sound coquettish.

“I don't fuck whores.”

Her face twists. “Well, fuck you, motherfucker,” she yells, giving me the finger. I should slap her into some good manners, but I can’t be bothered. I walk on.

Wonder if she's one of Finchby's?

Perhaps I should mention it to him?

Probably not one of his. He doesn't let them on to the street ‘til he knows they'll behave.

The area stinks. The idle and the lost, the drunk and the addicted, huddle, grovel or simply lie in alleys and nooks.

I step over a pair of legs emerging from a doorway, not really looking at the face at the other end. But a voice, sweet and sultry speaks. “Spare some change mate?”

It's a beautiful voice. Or would be if it was less pathetic. I look more closely to see if the face matches.

Christ, but you reek….

She's dirty; stinking dirty and her eyes are popped. The stench of vomit and weeks-unwashed is an assault….

But if she was cleaned up….

“What are you doing here?”

She sits up, weaving as she moves. Her face screws up. “Couldn’t make the rent. Landlord threw me out.”

Her pupils are huge….

What are you on?

No need to ask what happened to the rent money….

I pass her a five, then tear a page from my diary to scribble an address.

“If you go there, they'll give you a meal and a bed.”

“Hey, Mister….” She reaches up an arm. She’s got the shakes. And it’s not the shiver of cold.

Needing a fix….

Finchby’ll provide that for you….

And you can work for a living after that.

*****

James

It’s Charlotte’s birthday, her first spent with me and Michael and of course, he and I have planned to make it a memorable one. For the evening, we agreed our plans for her a few days ago and we have planned a small private party. He’s bringing a cake. I’ve brought in the wine and the food and….

And….

It goes without saying that Charlotte is going to get a good birthday fucking. It’s a distracting thought. In the shower, my mind wanders in that direction until I turn the water temperature down to keep my erection under control for a more appropriate moment.

Dressing, I choose my clothes carefully. I know what presses her buttons. I pick out the tie she likes, my best shirt, cuff-links….

And now to find my mermaid.

She’s where she’s been all day. Michael and I both insisted that for her birthday, she should take a day off from working and just enjoy herself. Since the weather is filthy, this has translated to stretching out on the settee by the fire and reading. And right now, she’s reading Michael’s birthday present to her: Greek Myth and Legend.

Feet up, stretched out on the settee in front of the fire, she couldn’t look happier….

Well, maybe there’s one way….

I nudge up her feet to sit beside her. “Which story are you reading?”

“The one about how Heracles wrestled with Achelous and broke off his horn and created the cornucopia…. The horn of plenty.” She dimples happily and there’s a merry little twinkle in her eye.

Is that some kind of hint?

And now I look at her….

The way she’s dressed….

Hmm….

She has birthday plans too….

I smile inwardly.

Suits me….

“Glass of wine?” I ask.

“Mmm… lovely.”

In the privacy of the kitchen, I tap into my phone and Michael answers immediately. “You on your way?”

“I am, yes….”

The tone of a happy man lol!

“…. I should be with you within half an hour….” His tone changes, sounding pained…. “…. Assuming that is that I don’t end up in jail for running down some kid in a witch’s outfit or a skeleton costume.”

“Sorry?”

“It’s all squibs and fireworks and trick-or-treaters. I swear, if another kid runs in front of the car, they’ll be hauling my ass into court for justifiable homicide…”

“Great. We’ll be up in the bedroom. I put the heating on hours ago and the wine’s on ice already. Do you want me to wait for you to arrive?”

I can hear the smile in his voice. “No need. I had a shower back at the centre and I’m ready to go. I’ll enjoy arriving to hear her in full song.”

There’s a tempting idea….

“Sounds good to me. I’ll see if I can get the chorus going for you then….”

“You do that. I’ll be with you as soon as I can.”

I tap off the phone, turn to pick up the wine bottle and glasses and all but fall over her….

She clearly heard the conversation. There’s a sparkle to her eye and a hint of eastern promise to her smile.

“Eavesdropping?” I try to sound stern, but I don’t try hard, and she isn’t fooled.

“Wasn’t I supposed to hear that, Master?” Her voice drips innocence.

It’s an argument I can’t win. I settle for pointing upstairs. “Bedroom, Madam. Now.”

She dimples. “To await my cornucopia of lovers?”

“If we’re discussing Michael's never-ending horn of plenty, then yes. Up!” I aim a forefinger to the ceiling.

She chuckles. “Yes, Master.”

“I’ll be with you in a minute.”